


Broomsticks, Cauldrons and Prompts

by youbuggme



Series: GOT/HP Crossovers [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Amortentia, Boggarts, Bullying, Cultural Differences, F/M, Fortune Telling, Gen, M/M, Mirror of Erised, Puking Pastille, Sex Education, Staff Meetings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:25:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youbuggme/pseuds/youbuggme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of GoT/HP crossover prompts!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amortentia [Throbb]

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't know I needed this until I was prompted, now I need more lol. 
> 
> I decided to separate these from my other prompt dump because it is kind of its own category :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: if youre taking prompty from the Harry Potter prompt list,,, how about "you are already dating someone else, and during our love potion unit, you get asked to explain what you smell, and of course you’re gonna be smelling things that describe your partner right? uhm, but then why are you explicitly describing me…?" with Throbb (?)

Theon stared down into the depths of his cauldron and _knew_ he had fucked up.

He was in his sixth year at Hogwarts and had gotten a high enough score on his OWLS to warrant him continuing Potions when he probably didn’t need too (he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do once he graduated Hogwarts and hadn’t put much thought into it like _someone_ ). It didn’t mean he was a potions master, but he was never horrible. Yet, somehow he had royally fucked up this one.

Potions Master Luwin thought it would be a _wonderful_ idea to have a group of sixteen to seventeen year olds to try their hand at the highly dangerous love potion Amortentia. It was _supposed_ to come out a pearl color but Theon’s was tar black. Rather than seductive and entrancing smells coming from the spiraling steam (like the description had said), Theon was getting clouds of thick black smoke that mostly smelt of rotten fruit. It didn’t take a genius to know that Theon was going to get a Troll on this one.

Beside him, his best mate was making a textbook perfect Amortentia. Robb’s potion was a picture replica of the one in their shared textbook. The color was a brilliant Mother-of-Pearl with little steam spirals flowing over the edge of the cauldron. Theon emptied his cauldron; just giving up because there was no way in hell his potion was getting anywhere _close_ to Robb’s.

“Better luck next time,” Robb beamed, inhaling his potion and smiling softly at the intoxicating smell.

Theon rolled his eyes. Now that the smoke from his own cauldron had dissipated, he leaned over to catch a whiff of Robb’s potion. Amortentia was supposed to have a different smell to each person; mimicking the scents of the things that user was most attracted to.

Theon’s smells were a mixture of fresh, cold pine air, leather, ocean breeze and the unique spicy scent of Robb’s cologne. Yeah, Theon already knew about his deep-seated affections for Robb and that the Amortentia would mimic the scents he associated with Robb, so he wasn’t all too surprised. ‘Didn’t mean it didn’t bring warmth to his cheeks or caused his heart to beat a little faster.

“Does it smell good?” Robb grinned proudly, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah,” Theon shrugged off, resting his elbows on their shared table. “Bet yours is going to get passed around _again_.” While Theon’s strengths were more in transfiguration and charms, Robb excelled in potions and defense. They balanced each other in that way.

“Oh gods, I hope not,” Robb flushed embarrassed, although after six years of this he should have been used to it.

“Why, nervous you are going to be asked what you smell?” Theon teased despite the fact he actually did want to know what Robb smelt.

As if on cue, Professor Luwin came over and inhaled deeply, a soft smiling coming to his face. “Well done, Mr. Stark!” Luwin looked over to see Theon’s cauldron empty. “And what happened here?”

“I made tar soup,” Theon grumbled. “I know, I’m getting a Troll so I dumped it. Spare us both the pain, right?”

Luwin didn’t seem particularly pleased with Theon’s proactive move but said nothing as he turned back to Robb’s. After one more deep inhale, Luwin called attention to the class. Theon nudged Robb pointedly to prove he had once again been correct in his assessment.

“Class, I want you to gather around here. Mr. Stark has given us a near perfect example of Amortentia,” Luwin praised. Theon kicked Robb smirking. “Mr. Stark, what do you smell?

Theon leaned close, ready to hear what Robb had to say. Robb flushed but answered promptly for the professor. “Well, to me, it smells like fresh snow, wood, fur,” Robb blushed as he said the last word and Theon knew what it was going to be before he said it, “and sea salt.” _Coco-wait, what?_ Theon blinked in surprised, jerking up.

That was _not_ was he thought Robb would say. After all, Robb was dating Jeyne Westerling and she slathered that coconut lotion all over herself so Theon had thought _that_ would have been the scent. But sea salt? Theon was nearly _98%_ sure Robb had never been to the ocean.

“Very good,” Luwin cheered, pouring a vial of the potion to pass around. Theon didn’t listen to his classmates as they voiced what they smelled, his eyes on Robb and wondering where the hell sea salt came from?

Robb never had experienced sea salt air before. The closest thing Robb had ever come to a body of water was the little river that bordered Winterfell and the Great Lake on the Hogwarts grounds. If Theon were to contemplate it, the closest Robb got to sea salt through association would be Theo- _Oh._

Theon swallowed as he came to startling realization, his eyes on Robb, who was leaning over his cauldron to inhale the fumes of his potion again. A small smile came to Robb’s face and his eyes fluttered shut. Theon’s stomach squirmed from the sight. Theon couldn’t help the twitch his own lips gave. _Well, that was very good to know._


	2. Sea Salt [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Could you write a follow-up to that throbb amortentia ficlet; where Robb breaks up w/Jeyne and Theon confronts him about the sea salt scent?

Theon trudged down the steps of the castle, scanning the Hogwarts grounds for a particular red head. Robb and he needed to talk. Especially, if Theon had heard the gossip in the Great Hall correctly.

Spotting him on the edge of the lake, Theon quickly made his way over. Robb had his back to him and didn’t seem to notice Theon approaching.

“So, I just heard the news,” Theon stopped next to Robb so they stood shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the vast lake. “Why didn’t you tell me you broke things off with Westerling?”

Robb shrugged, his eyes glued to the dark, murky waters. “I figured it wasn’t all that important.”

“Really? Last week you were talking about inviting her over for Winter break to meet your parents,” Theon pointed out.

Robb licked his lips nervously, his eyes moving to look at his feet on the grassy grounds. “Things changed since then.”

“Is this about potions class yesterday?” Theon knew it was, but he knew Robb didn’t like being _that_ transparent.

“Yeah,” he sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. “She wasn’t too happy when she heard about what I smelt or rather what I didn’t.”

“Why?” Theon played dumb but wondered silently if she had connected the dots too. Jeyne was a smart girl.

Robb shrugged, falling silent, his eyes still locked on the ground.

Sighing loudly and obnoxiously, Theon grabbed Robb’s arm and yanked him down to the ground so they were sitting by the water’s edge. Robb let himself be pulled down, even leaning in a little to Theon. It wasn’t cold outside, still fairly early in the semester, but it was brisk. Theon didn’t mind in the slightest. If anything it was a boost of confidence for the rest of the conversation he had planned out.

“Now, are you going to tell me the truth or are we going to play dumb some more,” Theon cocked an eyebrow.

Robb snapped his head up and met Theon’s eyes. “Excuse me?”

For a moment, Theon actually thought Robb might not know what Theon was talking about, but then he saw the nervous twitch of Robb’s hands pulling at the blades of grass and he knew.

“Playing dumb then,” Theon smirked. “Tell me, Robb, why sea salt?”

Swallowing hard, Robb shrugged innocently. “I dunno.”

Theon rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, let’s try something different.” Robb glanced over and watched as Theon stared at a fixed point in the distant. “Want to know what I smelled? I bet you do.”

“Only if you want-”

“Sure,” Theon grinned, cutting him off before nerves got the better of him and he didn’t go through with this. “I smell those stupid woods behind your house; you know where we go hiking with Grey Wind?” Robb blinked and Theon continued. “I smell the leather of my sister’s biker jacket that she _always_ wears. I bet she used to wear it with her school uniform. I smell the ocean from the port by my old house, which honestly is a little gross but its more nostalgia based.”

“Really?” Robb asked weakly, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

“Yup, also smell you,” Theon deadpanned, locking eyes with Robb at this time.

The reaction was almost comical. Robb’s face reddened instantly and his eyes widened. “Wait, what-”

“Robb,” Theon cut him off, “You’ve never been to the damn ocean before, have you?” Robb shook his head slowly, gnawing at his lip nervously. “So tell me, where the hell have you smell sea salt and enough of it for you to smell that in you Amortentia?”

Robb’s eyes came to realization and a tiny smile came to his lips. “You smell me?” he asked carefully for reassurance.

“That shitty cologne you wear,” Theon affirmed, leaning closer but not enough to spook Robb out. He could see Robb was still wrapping his head around these things. If Theon had to guess correctly, it hadn’t even hit Robb that he might have feelings for Theon until recently. It was a hard pill to swallow in a little over a day.

“Well, it can’t be that shitty,” Robb defended with a wider grin. “I mean, if you smell it that must mean you like it.”           

“Idiot, I like you,” Theon rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me look like an ass with you denying it too.”

Robb joined Theon in rolling his eyes. “I’m not denying.”

“So?” Theon smirked. “Now what?”

“I suppose it would be fitting to kiss you, right?” Robb said it with such confidence that if Theon didn’t see the nervous twitch of his hands, Theon would have been completely floored. To be honest, he still was a little floored and was beginning to lose his footing as the dominant, in control party of this conversation.

“Ay, I guess that would be fitting.”


	3. Staff Meeting [Gen.]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For IgnisEtGlacies13 and AlannaGuerrero for helping me pan-out this verse a little more!

“Really, Lannister? You think the Great Lake is _suitable_ for that?” Brienne Tarth, Head of Gryffindor, growled across the large oak table, sapphire eyes locked with emerald.

Head of Slytherin’s Jaime Lannister rolled his eyes, lounging further back in his chair as a sign of disinterest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought Gryffindor was supposed to be the House of the Brave and the Bold.”

“I say do it. Fuck it, less brats mucking up the halls,” Walder Frey threw his two-cents in which of course caused only more commotion.

“Frey, you don’t even teach,” Tyrion Lannister, Head of Ravenclaw, pointed out as he reached to refill his goblet of wine. “So why should we listen to your opinions on the matter of students’ education when your highest priority is making sure the floors are clean?”

“The dwarf is right. Frey, shut up,” the flying instructor and Quidditch coach snapped at the castle care taker.

Davos Seaworth of Hufflepuff’s eyes flashed with warning. “Now, Sandor-”

“Oh, great, Seaworth is going to make this about political correctness,” Pycelle groaned.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you even do anything here, Pycelle, or are they just keeping you around for pity?” Baelish sneered at the recently demoted matron and now professor of Muggle Studies.

“Oh look, Baelish bullying another one of the staff members, _how unusual_.”

“Go back to your job scraping unicorn shit off the grounds, _Martell_ ,” Baelish snapped at the Care for Magical Creatures instructor.

Mance, professor of Ancient Runes, leaned to the Divination professor. “Do you think we will actually get to the discussion of budget? We’ve already been here for over an hour.”

Melisandre shook her head, eyes locked on the nearest candle and its flickering flame. “I don’t foresee it.”

“Great, the two most out-dated magic professors are teaming up,” Dagmer of Astronomy snorted. “Glad to see you two on top of everything.”

“When has astronomy ever helped a witch or wizard out on the field?” Jaime Lannister threw at the Ironborn.

“Not everything is about fighting, Lannister.”

“Oh, that’s _rich_ coming from you, Tarth. Did you remember last year when your students caused a riot on the second floor?”

Qyburn’s eyebrows rose. “I thought we all agreed that was due to a third-year potions mishap. Something about dirty cauldrons?” His eyes darted in said Potions Master’s direction.

Luwin, who usually never threw himself into these types of debates, glared coolly at the new Hospital Wing Matron and Pycelle’s replacement. “Are you trying to blame the riot on me? I keep the dungeons _impeccable_. I’ve seen the mess you’ve made of the Hospital Wing with your little experiments; you should be ashamed of yourself.”

“Great,” Oberyn rolled his eyes, “The old men are fighting again…”

“Are you okay, Headmaster?” Osha, usually silent and often bored during these meetings, asked.

Stannis lifted his head from the wooden table he had been resting against for the good portion of the hour and glanced down the table. Half of his staff were standing up and yelling, the other half were making snappish comments and sneered at each other. The only ones not participating right now were himself and the Osha the librarian.

“What’s the point?” he sighed tiredly.

Distantly, a goblet hit the ground and Tyrion lamented the loss of alcohol loudly over shrieks of Melisandre and Davos getting into yet _another_ one of their squabbles. Stannis wasn’t even sure why alcohol was present. It wasn’t supposed to be since it was banned from these meetings after _The Pycelle and Oberyn Quarrel of 1990_. “We all know we aren’t actually going to be talking about the budget?”

“Then why try?” Osha asked, her eyes shining like she already knew the answer.

“No! You listen to me you crazy witch-”

Melisandre cut Davos off sharply, “Crazy because you failed all your Divination classes and when you look at the bottom of a cup all you see is-”

“Crazy like the fumes you inhale from locking yourself in an attic-”

“Weren’t we talking about teaching beside the Great Lake for Dark Arts courses?” Dagmer yawned, turning to look over at Frey.

“ _Defense_ ,” Jaime corrected with a sharp hiss, “Against the Dark Arts.”

“According to _some_ people,” Walder’s eyes locked with Tyrion and Sandor’s, “my opinion of the matter is null, who gives a fat fuck.”

“Finally, the idiot gets it,” Sandor snarled, leaning hard on the table. “Now if only Lannister and Tarth would shut the hell up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Brienne sneered, “why don’t you just take that broomstick out of your ass?”

Stannis shook his head, zoning out of the bickering from his staff members once more. He turned to see Osha had simply gotten up and left at this point, probably to the delightfully silence of the library. Stannis wanted nothing more than to end this staff meeting and lock himself in his chambers where he wouldn’t have to see a single staffer…until, of course, Tarth would march up to explain _why_ Lannister should be demoted from being a Head of House _again_.

_Gods, why did Robert have to put him in charge of this fucking school?_


	4. Puking Pastille [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Oh gods, Throbb HP/GOT crossovers are all I never knew I wanted. So how about this prompt - "i forgot to finish my history of magic homework, so i took a puking pastille to get out of it, but you are actually worried about me, and insist on escorting me to the hospital wing, and omg, after class you brought me soup from the great hall, i cannot ever tell you that i was faking it" - with Throbb?

Robb was in _way_ too deep and now it was too late to admit the truth. He was not about to admit that he traded his brother a puking pastille for his past Transfiguration essays so he could get out of turning in a paper _which_ he had completely forgotten about because he was busy making out with his boyfriend in the library. He was not about to tell the truth when he ended up in the Hospital Wing with his said library make out boyfriend hovering over him with _freaking soup_ **and** after hours.

“Are you feeling better?” Theon asked, his chair pulled up right alongside the hospital bed Robb was resting in. Distantly, Qyburn could be heard mixing solvents and potions in his office, muttering notes and corrections to himself.  He hadn’t even noticed Theon slip in two hours ago. Honestly, Robb had only ever stayed overnight in the hospital wing once before and Qyburn almost never leaves his office unless it was an emergency.

“A bit,” Robb grinned sheepishly. “What’d Professor Aemon say about my absence?”

“Barely noticed,” Theon shrugged uncaringly. “I mean, it’s a big class and the guy is practically blind. He did mention that you can turn in your paper on Monday though.”

Robb let out an internal sigh of relief. The whole reason he was in this lying mess was because of the damn paper.  At least _that_ part of the plan worked out. However, the guilt of Theon putting in effort to take care of him was about constricting and a bit heart-warming.

“You didn’t have to come all the way up here,” Robb turned to lie on his side to face Theon, “you know that, right?”

Theon shrugged. “It’s a Wednesday night and I didn’t have plans.” Robb smiled softly and Theon kept speaking. “I mean, I _was_ going to play chess with Asha but she cancelled so-”

Robb punched Theon with feign weakness. Theon pretended to be injured and both laughed. A mellow silence fell over them until Robb scooted over his in cot.

“If you are going to stay the night you should at least be comfortable,” Robb murmured, looking down hard at the sheets. The transition between friends and lovers was sometimes a bit awkward, but they had known each other long enough to move past those moments.

Theon only cocked an eyebrow before he said nothing and he climbed in. As Robb threw the sheet over both of them, Theon slung his arm around him.

“I know what you did,” Theon whispered against Robb’s temple. Robb froze and Theon continued, “You shouldn’t trust Snow with your secrets, he’s a terrible liar and his girlfriend told me all his tells. I set Rickon and Arya on him and he cracked in two seconds.”

Robb flushed deeply. “Damn it.” Last time he was going to trust Jon with his schemes, _not_ that he had many schemes.

Theon grinned against his cheek and kissed him. “I won’t tell, but you’ll have to persuade me.”

“Really?” Robb pushed away, rolling his eyes. “Qyburn is like twenty feet away. You want stuff with the chance of _Qyburn_ walking in?”

“We can be discrete.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Love you too, Stark,” Theon smirked as he reeled Robb back up against him, this time positioning them so Robb was on his back and Theon was laying half across his chest. “One thing though.”

“Hmm.”

“How’d you get the puking pastille?” Theon looked up. “I’ve been in your dorm and your stuff; I know you don’t own any.”

“I may have made a deal with Bran and Jojen.” Robb pulled Theon closer to his chest. “You shouldn’t have given them all those gag gifts for Christmas.”

“Come on,” Theon grinned up at him, “they promised me that’d aim their pranks at whoever I want. Tell me it’s kind of funny to see Frey dealing with all their stunts. Think of it as payback for what he did to you in third year. I’m protecting your virtue and honor, via your little brother and his boyfriend.”

“It won’t be funny when they get caught.”

“Robb,” Theon closed his eyes and snuggled into his chest, “the day your brother gets caught is the day you get a T in any of your classes. It ain’t going to happen. The boy has mad skill.”

“I can’t believe you just said that,” Robb chuckled.

“Well, one of you Starks has to have it and it isn’t you, Mr. Robb I-Didn’t-Finish-My-Paper-So-I-Faked-An-Illness-To-Get-Out-Of-It Stark.”

“A bit hypocritical coming from you,” Robb grumbled.

“Hey,” Theon poked his boyfriend’s chest, “it’s expected of me. You knew that from the beginning.”

“Sure did,” Robb nuzzled Theon’s head, “idiot.”


	5. Jealousy [Jaime/Brienne]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IgnisEtGlacies13: what if Tormund is the Hogwarts groundskeeper and likes to flirt with an oblivious Brienne, and whenever Jaime notices he gets jealous and becomes even more snarky to her?
> 
> [Note: The Head of Houses are Brienne (Gryffindor), Tyrion (Ravenclaw), Davos (Hufflepuff) and Jaime (Slytherin). Stannis is Head Master.]

“Did you and the groundskeeper get into another spat?”

Jaime glanced to his left to see his brother smirking over his goblet of wine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tyrion chuckled and nudged Davos, who was sitting to his left and having a conversation with the Headmaster, “Seaworth, I need your opinion on something.”

Davos sighed exasperatedly and glanced at the Charms Professor, “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a conversation?”

“It’ll take a moment,” Tyrion waved off, unconcerned by the heated glare from Headmaster Stannis Baratheon. “Have you noticed a certain _hostility_ amongst the faculty recently?”

“If you’re talking about me and that bloody red witch-”

Tyrion quickly cut Davos off, “Not you and Melisandre, although I suggest counseling for you two. No, I was talking about the groundskeeper and a certain Head of House.”

Stannis, who looked utterly bored with the conversation, rolled his eyes, “I don’t think Tarth is aware.”

“Wrong Head of House,” Tyrion clicked his tongue, eyeing his brother.

Davos’ eyes lit up as he glanced over at Jaime. “You and Tormund again?”

“Nothing the big lug can’t handle,” Jaime rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair to look down the long table. Usually, Brienne sat with the rest of the Head of Houses, but as of last week she decided that her place beside the Head of Slytherin wasn’t good enough and was now sitting at the end with the two wildling faculty members and the Iron born Astronomy professor. At least Mance taught a sophisticated course and Dagmer was disciplined. Jaime was still wondering why they let a barbarian such as Tormund Gaintsbane inside the castle. Best let him run with the wolves and other wild things in the forest for all Jaime cared.

“You never wore jealousy well,” Tyrion murmured through another sip of wine.

Jaime scoffed while Davos and Stannis shared a knowing look before diving back into whatever dull conversation the two older men were having before.

“You know,” Tyrion pushed his near empty goblet toward his brother for a refill, “you handle your crushes like a first year.”

“Excuse me?” Jaime looked offended.

“Don’t act like this morning’s Head of House meeting wasn’t absolutely ridiculous.”

“That’s all _her_ fault,” Jaime sneered. He watched as Tormund (the fucking caveman) swung an arm around Brienne. Brienne (the oblivious wench) didn’t seem to care, shrugging it off a few minutes later to talk to Mance about something.

“I fail to see how you two arguing about Quidditch practice times resulted in Davos’ desk turning into a tabby cat. He ended up sending Waters looking for it for hours.” Tyrion pointed at his empty goblet and his brother finally refilled it, handing it to him carelessly.

“She’s the Transfiguration professor, not me,” Jaime muttered, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Yes, but if I recall correctly, you did receive Outstandings every year in transfiguration.”

“Coincidence.” Jaime winced as a loud barrel of laughter came from the end of the hall, Tormund throwing his head back and Brienne ( _damnit_ ) joining in.

“Just like how you insisted that your classroom, the one you’ve been using for the past five years mind you, wasn’t big enough to practice disarming spells so you started using the one next to hers,” Tyrion smirked. “Or how you took a select group of seventh years and brought them to the forest to practice fire spells, nearly lighting half of the damn thing on fire _and_ waking up the army of centaurs.”

“I don’t like your tone,” Jaime snapped, standing up. “I have papers to grade.” Both brothers knew that was a lie since Jaime hated reading (all the magic in the world couldn’t fix his dyslexia).

Tyrion watched him leave, waved his brother off before popping into the seemingly private conversation of Stannis and Davos. Jaime ignored him as he stalked down the end of the table to head toward the Slytherin dungeons.

“Leaving dinner so soon?” Tormund called to Jaime as he walked past them.

“ _Some_ of us actually have work to do,” Jaime sneered.

Tormund didn’t seem offended at all, turning toward Brienne and whispering surreptitiously, “He’s just jealous.”

Brienne didn’t seem to understand the implication that Tormund’s words were in reference to her. “Maybe he shouldn’t push all his work off till last minute.”


	6. Restricted Section [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: 'we’re partners for an essay project in history of magic and we need to get a book from the restricted section, but i’m not sure how the books are organized in this section, and you won’t stop trying to find weird sex books, like, no i don’t think they keep the wizard’s kama sutra in the restricted section, what is wrong with you?' w/throbb :D

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Robb groaned, throwing Theon a dirty look before turning back to the shelf. _Why_  Stannis thought Osha was a great choice as librarian was beyond him, especially when this sorting order made no fucking sense. (Was she going alphabetical, Dewey Decimal, author, subject, size and width, whatever the fuck she felt like?) Also, _why_  Robb thought bringing his boyfriend along when all Theon did was looking for some weird sex book that-

"Found it!" Theon grinned ear to ear as he raced over to Robb, nearly sliding into him, a thick leather bound book in his arms. 

Robb stared at Theon and the book in disbelief. "How the hell did you find this? Five minutes ago you didn't even know it existed and now you found it meanwhile I can't find the _Historical Index of Restricted Spells_ that _I know_ is here?"

Theon shrugged, his lips twitching up. "Hufflepuffs are good at finding things."

Robb never felt a stronger urge to slap Theon upside the head. Instead, he said, "Well, how about you _help_  me find it?"

Theon shook his head. "Doesn't work that way." Robb raised his eyebrows as Theon used his wand light to begin skimming through the book. His eyes widened and he turned it to show Robb a rather explicit and complex position. "We should try this sometime."

"We aren't going do _anything_  until you _help_  me like you _promised_ ," Robb hissed lowly.

Theon rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm only good at finding things when I want to find them and I don't care about the book. I already did my part of the paper so finding the book serves me no immediate purpose. You're the one who wants to blow Professor Aemon's mind, not me."

Yup, Robb didn't even feel bad as he flicked Theon upside the head. "What about my happiness?"

Theon grinned wickedly as he displayed another pornographic image. "I imagine this would also make you quite happy."

Robb _definitely_  didn't feel bad as he whacked Theon upside the head. "Find me that book and we can do whatever sex position you want."

Robb barely found his footing as Theon shoved the book into Robb's hands, rushed past him and began scouting down the rows of books. Robb trailed behind, skimming through the book in his hands to see what Theon’s excitement was all about. He got about half way through before he shut it, his face burning bright red and he even found himself _slightly_  aroused. 

Closing the book, he barely had time to dodge as Theon _chucked_  a book at his head. With a loud smack, it knocked a few more books to the ground but with the faint glow of his wand he was able to see the peeled gold title _Historical Index of Restricted Spells_. Looking up, Theon snatched the wizarding Kama Sutra (as he silently dubbed it) and watched his boyfriend leaf through it with a delighted smirk on his face.

"I can't believe you fucking found it because you wanted to-'

"Fuck?" Theon filled in, folding in a page and closing the book. "Hurry up and read it so we can kick your roommates out...unless," Theon nodded toward the wooden table in the public portion of the library. Even if it was after hours and the whole castle was asleep, Robb couldn't believe Theon was even suggesting it. Actually, he could believe, he just couldn’t believe Theon thought Robb would agree.

"Sweet Jesus," Robb shook his head in dismay as he propped open the book. "Just help me find what I’m looking for and we can go."

Sighing loudly like a petulant child, Theon hooked his chin over Robb's shoulder. "It's going to cost your extra."

"What?" Robb rolled his eyes. "Want me to blow you?"

"Now _that's_ a pretty nice idea," Theon purred before hooking his arm underneath Robb's to jab his finger at the page. "Torture spells, right?"

"How are you doing that?" Robb asked exasperated, but flipped to the desired section anyways.

"Told you," Theon licked the shell of Robb's ear, "Hufflepuffs are good at findings thing. You know what else Hufflepuffs are good at?"

"It is sex related isn't it?" Robb mocked.

"You can attest to that, yeah?" Theon grinned into his neck as he started kissing and sucking at it. "Hurry up; I have what I want picked out."

"Am I going to regret it?" Robb asked teasingly.

"Oh, doubtful," Theon snorted, "the two blokes looked pretty damn excited in the picture."


	7. Tea Leaves [Brojen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Brojen plus, um, one of the HP prompts. You choose.
> 
> Chosen: "we're partners in divination, and i'm reading your tea leaves, and i don't know what i'm doing, so i just am guessing on images, but somehow every image i guess ends up having a romantic connotation, i swear i'm not doing this on purpose"

Jojen's snickering came to a sudden stop as his eyes went wide. "Shit, Melisandre is coming," Jojen warned as he ducked his head down to look into his Divination textbook. Bran hurried to do the same but froze as a warm hand touched his shoulder.

"Mr. Stark," Melisandre loomed over their burgundy cloth covered table alit with a few candles keeping a cream colored pot of tea warm, "may I ask what you find so funny?"

Bran looked over at Jojen for help but his friend ignored him to bend over his book for further inspecting. _Damn it_ , it was Jojen who got them off topic and it was Jojen who got him laugh and now he wasn't going to help him? Well, two could play at that game.

"Jojen was just telling me what he saw in my cup. I've got some good fortune according to him." Bran grinned wide as his whack-job professor's eyes swept from him to Jojen who looked down right scandalous. Underneath the table, Bran sent a wave of sparks from his wand to simulate a kick to Jojen who kept a straight face throughout.

"Mr. Reed, why don't you show me the cup?"

Panic and betrayal shone in Jojen's eyes as he picked up Bran's tea cup and displayed it to Professor Melisandre. Both boys watched with hopeful looks as she peered into the cup. Neither of them particularly believed in tea leaf readings and half-thought their professor was just pulling things out of her ass when she cornered students to give them a reading. However, when she came up with a frown, hope turned into despair. Apparently, her crack-pot mind saw something else. Great.

"Maybe you should try again," Melisandre suggested lightly but both boys knew it was a firm order.

Jojen took back to cup and peered into it. Bran didn’t even need to look in the cup himself to know his friend saw nothing. However, Melisandre was not going to let up and came to hang over Jojen’s shoulder.

Panicking, Jojen pointed inside the cup and waited for their professor to nod her head. Setting the cup down, Jojen flipped through the book.

“Well,” Jojen met Bran’s eyes with a look that basically said _Gods fucking help me_ , “the arch indicates your life will be reaching a point of stability.”

Bran wasn’t feeling particular generous. Jojen got them into this situation with Melisandre and Bran wasn’t going to help. Payback. “Stability in what exactly?”

“Excellent question, Mr. Stark,” Melisandre praised as she gave Jojen a look to answer.

“Well,” Jojen glared across the table before looking into the cup, “this circle-”

“That isn’t a circle,” Melisandre cut him off. “See, there is a little dip in it. To be classified as a circle it needs to be perfectly round. Divination is an exact art.”

Spinning the cup around in his hands, Jojen’s eyebrows raised to touch his hairline. “A heart.”

“So?” Melisandre lead on.

“Stability in his love life?” Jojen’s lips twitched up and Bran held back the urge to roll his eyes.

Melisandre clapped her hands. “Perhaps you have a gift.”

Jojen looked uncertain but nodded his head toward Bran. “Your turn, Stark.”

Bran hoped that Melisandre would leave but apparently, she was sticking around for his reading. Fucking fantastic. Karma’s a bitch.

“What do you see?” Melisandre glanced over his shoulder.

“I see…” Bran searched the cup for any sort of shape he could go with and found one of a circle with a dot in the middle. Shuffling his book he found the corresponding symbol, “a new beginning for your…” Bran searched for a symbol to connect it to but his professor ripped the cup from his hands.

“Wow,” Melisandre sounded impressed and in awe, “Mr. Reed, good things are happening in your future.” At this point the whole class was watching and Bran and Jojen were wondering how the hell they got in this situation. It wasn’t unusual for Melisandre to take over a reading, however good readings were never in her repertoire (unless you were Stannis but _that_ was a whole different story). “A new beginning, incredible luck,” Melisandre spun the cup as she spoke, her red dress flaring out dramatically when she addressed the room. “Good fortune and romance in your future.” Melisandre set the tea cup down with a heavy sigh, like the reading had caused her enormous effort. “You boys are lucky, unlike young Lommy.” Melisandre locked eyes with a student across the room and drifted away.

“What the hell?” Bran whispered as Melisandre predicted Lommy’s death by fire ( _how original_ ).

“Be glad she only saw love in our lives and nothing more,” Jojen murmured back.

“You think she knows?” Bran asked quietly.

“About us?” Jojen smirked, shaking his head. “She still thinks a man in the fire is whispering secrets to her, I doubt she knows we are dating.”


	8. Mirror Erised [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VagrantWriter: Theon and Robb stumble across the Mirror Erised. What is Robb's greatest desire? What is Theon's greatest desire? One of them is able to tear the other away because they already have what they want the most. ;)

“In here,” Theon yanked Robb off kilter and toward the door to his left. Behind them, they could hear the uneven steps of Walder Frey climbing the stairs.

Being caught after hours was one thing. Being caught after hours kissing your boyfriend that almost ended up dating the caretaker’s daughter was another. One Theon wasn’t exactly sure his father would enjoy getting a letter about. One Theon wasn’t sure the _Starks_ would enjoy getting a letter about. The only silver lining in this whole thing was Robb was young and quick and Walder Frey was old and slow.

Robb skidded to a stop and blasted off the lock to the door Theon was pointing to. The Hogwarts caretaker’s footsteps growing closer and closer.

Without even looking, the two boys flung themselves into the room and slammed the door shut. Both Robb and Theon used their bodies to brace the door and they listened carefully for Walder Frey. As the caretaker scurried by, cursing to his seven heavens as to where Robb and Theon were, they were both finally able to let out a sigh of relief. While they had escaped, it had only been by the skin of their teeth.

Robb finally took in the room they had landed themselves in. “Where the hell are we?”

It was a cluttered mess, objects both known and unknown were stacked and scattered around. Neither boy had even been in said room nor could either of them even remember this room being _in_ the school. It was as if it had appeared out of nowhere. Being at Hogwarts, that wasn’t necessarily unusual, but it sure as hell was curious.

“I don’t know,” Theon admitted as he stood up and crept further into the room. Robb quickly on his heels.

“You think Stannis knows this is here?”

Theon snorted as he bent over to examine a bronze chest. When it begun to rattle, he took a quick step away. “Stannis barely wants to be in charge of this school.”

“Point taken,” Robb murmured, although he wasn’t sure Theon’s answer was sufficient. However, his eyes had caught a large standing object in the back of the room that made him forget all about Headmaster Baratheon. “What’s that?” He was already halfway across the room before he felt Theon join him.

Upon closer examination, the object seemed to be an easel or propped up object wrapped neatly in a tarp. It was wider than both of them and nearly half as tall as Theon. Robb watched wearily as Theon slowly reached and clutched the end of the tarp, slowly sliding it off the object.

Turns out it was a mirror.

Robb looked into the mirror and frowned slightly. Things didn’t look quite right in the reflection. It was him and Theon, sure, but they looked older? His red hair was starting to gain some white streaks and Theon was _sporting a beard_?

But it wasn’t just them in the mirror. No, despite just the two of them being alone in the room, the mirror reflected many more. His father, his mother, his uncles and aunts- both those that were alive and dead, his siblings all happy and older. Children Robb didn’t recognize were also in the mirror and it took him a longer moment to recognize the features were not purely a Tully-Stark hybrid. The more touching aspect would have to be the silver band shining on his ring finger and its twin on Theon’s. Was this mirror the future? Robb hoped it was.

Glancing over at Theon, Robb was about to make a comment about their apparent future (Theon was fiercely against marriage, but obviously he changed his mind if this mirror showed the future) but fell silent at the melancholy look on Theon’s face.

Obviously, he wasn’t sharing the joy of their future. Robb stayed deathly silent as he watched a weak handed Theon touch the edge of the mirror, his eyes glued on the center of the mirror, away from both of their reflections.

“Mom?”

Robb blinked and looked at his own reflection once more. There was no sign of anyone who resembled Theon (save for the children) in the mirror. So maybe it didn’t show the future. But then what did it show?

“What do you see?” Robb whispered, breaking the silent.

Theon jumped and stared wide-eyed at Robb. “What do _you_ see?”

“What I want,” Robb realized, blinking as he looked at his reflection once more. He could see the wagging tail of Grey Wind in the edge of the mirror.

“Same,” Theon swallowed as his eyes glued back on the mirror. Slowly, he sunk to the ground and wrapped his arms around his knees.

“What do you want?” Robb asked quietly, not to jar Theon. Clearly, there was more in the reflection than just his mother.

Theon didn’t speak for a while. Robb thought for a moment that he wasn’t going to until Theon, barely audibly, said, “I’m in Slytherin. Rodrik and Maron are there too.” There was a lengthy pause. “My dad is proud of me.” Robb wanted to ask if he was in Theon’s reflection but kept his mouth shut as Theon continued. “I don’t have that stupid scar from Bolton,” Theon choked on a wet sob and Robb realized Theon was holding back tears and his body was shaking, but only slightly. He didn’t reach out though; he was afraid Theon would take notice and stop talking. “We’re a family and whole.” A long moment passed, close to ten minutes before Theon spoke again, his voice strangely detached although moments ago it held more emotion that he usually let on. “It’s not real though.”

“I’m afraid not,” Robb murmured, glancing back at his own reflection of a future he desperately wanted and realized couldn’t happen. His aunt Lyanna was dead. Uncle Brandon was gone too. It was already incorrect and Robb didn’t want to dwell on what else was wrong, his eyes drifting toward the wedding bands.

Carefully, Robb reached for Theon’s hand and pulled him up to his feet. Theon went willingly, more willingly than Robb had anticipated. So willing that Theon kept coming until he crashing into Robb, wrapping his arms around Robb’s back and burying his face into Robb’s neck. Robb instantly clung back, one hand rubbing Theon’s back and the other one cradling Theon’s head, playing with the ends of his hair, just like Theon liked.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

They were already out late, Frey was probably still hunting them down and the room was oddly comforting. “Sure,” Robb murmured, pressing a kiss to Theon’s temple. “We can stay."


	9. Boggart [Throbb]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> VagrantWriter: Theon and Robb face off against a boggart. What is Robb's biggest fear? What is Theon's biggest fear? One of them gets so scared that the other has to take care of business. Comfort afterwards.
> 
> Iron_Dragon_Maiden: People are facing their fears in DADA class via boggart: Theon sucks at DADA and really doesn't want anyone to know his fears. Robb is there to comfort and defend him and even points out that he does a similar thing in how he laughs at the world when it kicks him.

“Alright,” Professor Lannister called out to the class, “let’s begin the exercise. Now, does everyone remember the spell?” His eyes skimmed through the sea of third year students, some nodding, others murmuring the incantation under their breaths.

Behind the professor stood an old wooden wardrobe. Theon recognized it from one of the lesser used dungeons, having coerced Robb into sneaking down there with him for exploratory purposes (and _not_ because he liked being alone with the guy). He knew why it had been brought up to their classroom, the rattling of the creature inside making it obvious especially as their professor broke down the purposes of the lesson: Fear. Beside him, Robb was fidgeting in excitement. Theon wished he could share in his friend’s excitement but Defense against the Dark Arts was never his strong suit, he greatly preferred Transfiguration or Charms.

“How do you think they caught it?” Robb whispered as he tried to peek over the other students to get a good look at the shaking wardrobe as their professor gave directions for the exercise.

Theon shrugged. “Boggarts like dark, confined spaces.” Rodrik and Maron used to capture them and hid them in Theon’s room when he was still living with them, less than ten years of age, and they were still alive to torture him.

Robb nodded his head distractedly and watched wide-eyed as Lannister blew off the lock on the wardrobe and it burst open, a clown with bloody teeth strutting out. The girl who stood in the front of the line screamed in terror before yelping, “ _Riddikulus!_ ”

A popping sound echoed the room and one fear was replaced with another as the next child came forward. It continued this way for a while, the line slowly creeping forward and Theon growing closer and closer to the Boggart, now posing as a decomposing corpse.

While Theon kept a brave face, smirking and laughing at the other kids fears, panic had already held a dead grip on Theon’s heart and lungs, making it hard to breath and move. He didn’t want to face the Boggart, having done so, so many times as a child. He didn’t want to have everyone in the room see what he fears and more than anything else he didn’t want to see what _he_ feared.

Despite having encountered Boggarts thousands of times before via his wicked brothers, never did they produce the same image twice. Theon had seen a Boggart shift from his Uncle Euron to his Uncle Victarion to his own Father. He had seen a Boggart take the image of his mother, broken and bloody on the floor. He had seen a Boggart take on the face of common fears and violent bullies, bringing up fears Theon didn’t know he still had and reminding him just how weak he was for fearing them all.

Even with all that in mind, the worst part of this exercise is he didn’t want _Robb_ to know what his newest fears were. What if it was something pathetic- laughable to the point that Robb wouldn’t want to be associated with him? What if it was something grotesque and dark- something that Robb would be horrified of and wonder why Theon had reasons to fear so many things? Even worse, what if it was Robb that showed up in the Boggart because out of all the people Theon had ever met and all the things he ever experience, nothing scared him more than Robb Stark.

It wasn’t because the red headed Gryffindor was particularly scary, but he sure as hell was intimidating. The way he threw caution to the wind and cared openly and deeply, the way he didn’t care what people thought of him, the way that he followed his heart in a way Theon would never dream of doing so bravely and openly. The way he made Theon feel- yeah, that was _definitely_ the worst offender.

And even more so than the fear of Robb Stark was the fear of Robb Stark leaving and not looking back. Theon idly wondered if a Boggart even know how to show the fear of isolation and abandonment, but magic was funny like that and he was sure there was a way.

There were four people in front of him now and Theon couldn’t stop the nervous tremble that crawled down his spine. Robb glanced at him, smiling big as the thousands of spiders that filled the room.

_“Riddikulus!”_

Three people- feral snapping dogs with bloody teeth and glowing eyes- and Theon stopped breathing as fear clogged his throat. Robb’s smile dimmed and worry came to his eyes.

_“Riddikulus!”_

Alice and Conner both jumped at the knife wielding man swinging at them, Alice pointing her wand with shaky hands. Robb’s smile had completely vanished as he rested a hand on Theon’s quivering and tense shoulder. Theon jumped at the contact.

_“Riddikulus!”_

The room dimmed and voices whispering incoherent riddles surrounded them. Realization crossed Robb’s eyes as Theon backed out of his touch.

_“Riddikulus!”_

The boggart began to morph in front of them, Theon and Robb standing shoulder to shoulder as the creature decided which one of them to attack. Theon watched in astonishment as Robb shifted his foot a fraction close and the Boggart morph into a _child?_

It was hard to see the details but the whimpering was heart wrenching. Theon could see Robb sweating, his eyes locked on the child and Theon raised his wand quickly- “ _Riddikulus!_ ”

Grabbing Robb by the forearm, Theon pulled them both out of the line. None of their classmates said anything as they continued the exercise- Bats were screaming as they swooped on the class – and Professor Lannister mutely watched them sit at their desk with their fellow students.

“Are you okay?” was Theon’s first question, Robb looking a bit pale and his breath coming a tad quicker than normal.

Robb brushed it off instantly, locking eyes with Theon, “Are _you_?”

Theon sat back in his seat as the class screamed and laughed before them. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to do that.”

Robb shrugged off, “I was going to face the Boggart one way or another and you looked like you _really_ didn’t want to.” Theon didn’t confirm or deny Robb’s assessment but his silence was admission. “It seems kind of cruel for us all the bare our souls to the class, doesn’t it?” Robb smiled weakly, trying to lighten the mood.

Theon grunted. “Are you afraid of Rickon or something?” Maybe he should give Robb slack for his Boggart since he had taken on the fear creature for him but curiosity churned in Theon’s stomach.

Robb chuckled, shaking his head. “That wasn’t Rickon.”

It took Theon a moment of confusion before it came to him. “That was supposed to be you?”

Robb slowly nodded his head, eyes focusing on the ceiling rather than Theon. “The fear factor is more an internalized thing than a physical one,” Robb explained with vague sweeping hand motions. “Disappointment is a hard image for a Boggart to conjure so it was more symbolic, I guess. I can still feel the fear in my chest though,” he admitted quietly.

“Disappointment,” Theon murmured. Yeah, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Boggart had done that for him as well. “Why?” Theon asked. It was more of a question of _who_ but Robb got it.

“Family,” Robb sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Theon nodded his head and wondered if he should offer up his own fears but the list was long and he wasn’t ready for Robb to know any of that. Not when Robb was still pale about the fears he witnessed and not when Theon was still shaking about the fears he almost had to witness.

“Thanks,” Theon whispered quietly, kind of hoping Robb wouldn’t hear him.

Robb didn’t say anything for a long moment and Theon almost believed he hadn’t until Robb latched on his hand and squeezed, Theon’s stomach flipping quickly. “Any time.”


	10. Culture [Theon + Ygritte/Jon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iron_Dragon_Maiden: Ygritte and Theon meet and find that their cultures have a lot of things in common (and the things they don't is a huge culture clash).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of forgot half-way through this was in the Hogwarts AU...so there are little mentions of the universe, but it is mostly focused on established culture.
> 
> Also, most of these traditions and cultural bits are Greek (write what you know, right?) but there are also some from other cultures as well :P
> 
> You gave me quite the challenge, IDM :)

“Well,” Robb grinned brightly as Theon descended down the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his hooded eyes, “look who’s finally up.”

Theon narrowed his eyes in slits as he sunk down on the couch next to Robb, immediately flopping his head onto the red haired Gryffindor’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut once more. “Shut up,” Theon muttered sleepily.

It was summer break and Theon was staying at the Stark house again, no shocker there. He pretty much swapped between the Starks’ and his Head of House Davos Seaworth’s for the past five years, his own home undesirable for multiple reasons. Basically they didn’t want him there and Theon had no reason to stay. It was an antagonistic but mutual agreement. There were few back home he got along with, Asha primarily being one of them and they saw enough of each other at school for them both to be okay with the separation during breaks. Davos’ and Robb’s houses had very much become Theon’s home, especially when Hogwarts was unavailable.

“You’ve been sleeping for nearly three hours, it is almost six. Mom’s even about to start cooking dinner,” Robb said, poking his cheek insistently. “She’s making steak and kidney pie.” When Theon didn’t budge, Robb pull at a lock of his hair. “You _love_ steak and kidney pie.”

Theon cracked his eyes open and sighed loudly. “Where I come from, most people sleep at three in the afternoon and don’t get up until eight. It’s a cultural thing; you wouldn’t get it, _mainlander_. That’s why I’m always cranky,” he slurred.

“You mean ‘why you’re always an asshole?’” Jon asked as he came into the house, Ygritte walking beside him, they hands intertwined.

Theon raised a tired eyebrow at the pair, partly in agitation (always aimed towards Jon) and partly in confusion (aimed at Ygritte). “When’d you get here?”

“While you were asleep,” Robb answered cheerfully. “Ygritte’s meeting the family so she is staying for the remainder of the summer.” Theon made a move to comment but Robb beat him to it. “She is staying in Sansa and Arya’s room.”

“Hey.” Ygritte gave a jaunty little salute. Theon nodded his head lazily in return, eyes closing once more.

While the two had attended Hogwarts together for five years now, Theon and Ygritte hardly interacted. She was in Gryffindor with Robb and Jon while Theon was in Hufflepuff. They shared a handful of classes but that was about it. The most they ever came in contact was if Robb was sneaking Theon into Gryffindor Tower (but could it really be called sneaking when the whole house, even the Head of House Brienne Tarth, knew?). The only thing Theon knew about her was that she was a Gryffindor, she was friends with Snow and apparently dating (gross) and she was from some place even far more north than the Starks. So far north that there was a (mild) rumor that it was too cold for the owls to deliver her letter and they had to send some type of snow falcon.

“What are you two doing?” Robb asked conversationally as Theon took the opportunity to further bury himself into Robb’s shoulder. He would kill to go back to sleep.

“Hiking,” Jon shrugged, sinking onto the opposing couch with Ygritte in tow. Theon groaned loudly at Jon’s continued presence and Theon was 100% positive he received a glare for that in return.

Robb nudged his shoulder, dislodging Theon’s head. Theon sunk back into the couch to see Ygritte and Jon fully. Both had large yellow flowers in their hair (Ygritte more than Jon, but he still had one tucked behind his ear).

“Nice flowers.” Theon’s smirk was directed at Jon. Robb jabbed him with his elbow in retaliation. Always quick to defend his brother, of course.

Ygritte, seeming to miss the condescending tone or just downright ignoring it, smiled brightly. “Thank you!” She turned to Jon smugly. “Told you.”

Robb’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. “What are they for?”

“Good luck and good health,” Ygritte replied breezily and Theon snorted. Ygritte’s eyes flashed at him. “What’s so funny?”

“How are flowers good luck?” Theon rolled his eyes.

“They are Arnicas are they brings good luck to relationships,” Ygritte explained. “They are poisonous-” Jon made a choking sound and ripped the flower from his hair “-if eaten,” Ygritte added with a sharp grin and a wink to Jon.

“Poisonous flowers for good health?” Robb asked, not perturbed, but genuinely interested. Theon groaned that this.

Ygritte nodded her head, picking up the flower Jon threw off and shoved it back into his hair rather forcefully. He didn’t fight it but he did pout. “You just can’t ingest them but they’ll heal your bruises if you rub the petals on them. They ward off sickness. It’s a tradition that dates back hundreds of years.”

“They are just flowers,” Theon deadpanned.

Robb bit off a laugh at this. “Don’t you believe that spitting on people chases away bad spirits?”

Theon rounded on Robb. “No, not spitting _exactly_ ,” he huffed. “More the noise than anything. And it’s ghosts, _not_ spirits.”

“But you believe it.” Robb shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t be talking.”

“Don’t you also break plates?” Jon recalled pointedly.

“That’s celebratory! That’s different.” Theon crossed his arms defensively.

“Oh,” Ygritte cocked her head to the side, “back home we do something similar to that. If the plate or dish is chipped we have to break it to prevent bad luck from coming to the food.”

The tension in Theon’s shoulders eased a bit. “Really?” he asked suspiciously.

Ygritte nodded her head excitedly. “We got a lot of weird little traditions like that.”

“Like the eye things,” Jon muttered and Ygritte grinned evilly.

“What’s the eye thing?” Robb asked carefully.

“Are you talking about Evil Eye?” Theon asked.

Ygritte’s eyes lit in recognition but she shook her head all the same. “No, but we have something similar to that called Devil’s Tongue. No, the eye thing Snow’s talking about is something else.” Ygritte shot Jon a nasty smirk before continuing. “Way back when, my people were migratory hunters and followed sheep and cattle. On marks of celebration, they’d kill at lamb and roast it over the fire, the whole thing. We still do that with a spickett in the backyard and the eyes are considered a delicacy. Being offered one is a great _honor,_ ” she said pointedly.

Robb looked grossed out as he stared at Jon. “You ate eyes?”

Jon nodded numbly but Theon ignored both. “We do that too, except with goat. Lamb is hard to come by on the islands.”

“Same thing in the end,” Ygritte agreed good-naturedly.

“Usually, they slaughtered all the goats after raiding a town,” Theon explained. “They would feast until there was no more and moved on to the next town or village.”

“Raids?” Ygritte looked more intrigued that disturbed as Robb had been when Theon first told him and explained that the raiding history wasn’t all that ancient. Some islanders ( _not pointing any fingers, Uncles_ ) still actually conducted raids but they are very small scale and in desolate towns.

“Ancestors were pirates for lack of a better word,” Theon shrugged off but there was a hint of pride in his voice. He may not be well connected with his culture and most of the traditions he knew were from before he started at Hogwarts but he still had Ironborn Pride.

And the conversation continued as such, Robb and Jon leaving at some point as Ygritte and Theon continued to trade cultural and traditional experiences ranging from ceremonies, foods, music, elders, holidays and everything in between. There were a surprising amount of similarities. For example, they both had Name Days (or Saint Days as Ygritte called them). Lamb, sheep and goat were a traditional and common dish for both of them even though they were from different regions. Drums were heavily used in both music and rituals. The similarities between Theon’s Ironborn raiding culture and Ygritte’s ancestral migratory hunters over shadowed many of the differences. However, there was one that neither of them would budge on.

“No, that’s fucking ridiculous,” Theon snapped back as Jon and Robb reentered the room two hours later to signal that dinner was ready and people were waiting on them.

“It is no different that sinking your bodies to the bottom of the ocean so your Water God can go and eat them.”

Theon made a downright scandalous and affronted sound. “The _Drowned_ God doesn’t _eat_ people. When you die and are brought back to the sea, the worthy are _chosen_ to _dine_ in his halls. You burn your people so they don’t turn into zombies so don’t even go there.”

“It sends their spirits away and cleanses the body!” Ygritte hissed back in rapid fire. “It’s so we don’t create ghosts. You _southerons_ have something to learn about that!”

“Oh, so when I say that the salt water rebirth cleanses a person’s soul, you laugh but burning dead bodies cleansing souls isn’t ridiculous?” Theon paused for a moment before continuing. “Oh, and you know that burning dead bodies doesn’t _stop ghosts from happening_.”

“You can’t wipe away a person’s past with a little water,” Ygritte groaned in frustration.

Theon rubbed his face in annoyance. “It’s not wiping away a person’s past; it’s a ritual of spiritual cleansing.”

“You two okay?” Robb asked carefully, having sensed the tension and catching the tail end of the argument.

“Peachy,” Theon muttered in a growl.

“Fantastic,” Ygritte snapped.

Jon and Robb shared a long look. Culture wasn’t the only thing Theon and Ygritte had in common. Stubbornness was also a trait they shared. And pride.

“What was that cake you were talking about the other day?” Robb swiftly changed topics of discussion and focused on Theon. “The coin thing?”

“King’s Cake?” Theon blinked in confusion. “What about it?”

“Want to make it after dinner?” Robb asked sheepishly. “Might be fun.”

“Coins?” Ygritte asked dully.

Theon sighed like it was costing him money to breathe. “It’s a cake with a galleon in it. Whoever gets the slice with the galleon has luck during the next raid or whatever. It’s used for pretty much everything in the Isles: name days, birthdays, holidays, weddings, funerals, literally any events or occasion.”

“We got something like that,” Ygritte grinned slowly. “Instead of galleons or coins, we used magic peanuts but the concept is the same.”

“Wait,” Jon met Robb’s eyes, “like Unity Pie? With the little ink berries?”

Ygritte and Theon both made offended sounds.

“Fuck no.”

“Definitely not.”

“How are they not the same?” Robb cocked his head to the side. “It’s a pie you put something in.”

“Because Unity Pie a fucking pie, Stark,” Theon shook his head and Ygritte nodded in agreement. “King’s Cake is a _cake_ , not a _pie_.”

“Is there really a difference?” Jon rolled his eyes.

Ygritte looked downright offended and Theon smirked victoriously.


	11. Sex Ed [Jon/Ygritte]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Can you, please, write Jon/Ygritte, Hogwarts AU? Jon being headboy and giving presentation on safe sexual practices, Ygritte asking uncomfortable questions
> 
> Note: added minor Throbb in because I can't help myself.

As Jon stood inside the Gryffindor common room in front of his entire House, he wondered why this responsibility fell on him of all people. Sure, he was the (reluctant) Head Boy (he was still surprised he had been picked when _Robb_ had been the prefect from Gryffindor, not him) but did that really make him a viable candidate to teach sexual education because a case of Grassburry cold sores spurred up? It was a minor STD that was easily treated but had spread through the school like Wildfire, leaving a ghastly trail of green zits in its path.

"Alright," Jon sighed, standing in front of the fireplace where all the couches, chairs, and tables had been turned to face him. Robb and Theon (why his cousin snuck his boyfriend into this House meeting was beyond him) were all the way in the back sitting in a single arm chair and barely paying attention. In the front, Ygritte was grinning darkly at him and, gods, he knew where this was going before he even started the rehearsed lesson. "Let’s all be mature about this. Now, I'm sure you all know about the Grassburry outbreak-"

Ygritte's hand shot up and all eyes were on the seventh year red head Gryffindor prefect.

"How does an outbreak like this occur?" Ygritte grinned wildly as she cocked her head to the side in feigning confusion, red curls spilling over her shoulder. This garnered a few snickers from the back of the common room (and a few that weren’t even related to Ygritte’s question, _Robb_ ).

Jon kept his face straight but inside he was cursing at the old gods and the new for having Ygritte decided now would be a fun time to mess with him. (Of course, in Ygritte’s mind, _anytime_ was a good time to mess with him). It was bad enough he had to practice his speech with not only with all four Heads of Houses but Headmaster Baratheon as well (a conversation he’d rather never think about again and Jon was sure his Headmaster felt the same way).

"Unprotected sex," Jon answered. Some of the younger students giggled while others wrinkled their noses in disgust. The older students were unfazed.

Ygritte's grin only widened. "So you recommend protected sex?"

Jon felt his face redden and he had to swallow his pride because if it were up to him, he would have abandoned this conversation a long ass time ago. Unfortunately, he could practically feel Stannis Baratheon breathing down his neck even though he was probably locked up in his office writing letters to the parents of the afflicted, a chore Jon did not relish the thought of.

“Hogwarts promotes abstinence only, this is still a school,” Jon explained. This time, the older students were making the faces of disgust. “ _But_ , since abstinence only doesn’t actually prevent sex from happening, we are going to talk about safe sex.”

Jon really did hate the look Ygritte got at these words. Thankfully, she stayed quiet as Jon went through the procedures. He went into depth about contraceptives and different forms of protection, about how important honest communication with your partner it, about the different forms of consent and how consent in one situation doesn’t mean it transfers in another and how consent on Tuesday doesn’t mean consent for Thursday, and finally STDs which was the whole reason Jon was forced into this situation in the first place. All in all, Jon talked for an hour without interruption which felt like a godsend but Jon should have known the jokers and jesters were bidding their time.

Once he finished, he cursed the fact that he had to ask if there were any questions because _this_ would be the moment it all went to shit. Thankfully, by this point in the presentation, Theon and Robb just left. He had a feeling he knew where they were and was glad he didn’t have to go up to his dorm room anytime soon. Unfortunately, he still had to do the Hufflepuff presentations that evening and he wasn’t sure if Rickon being there or Theon showing up again would make it better or worse than the presentation in front of him.

For the first few questions, students mostly asked about how to get contraceptives and if there were potions they could brew instead (the answers were your Head of House or the Matron and _no, don’t fucking brew your own contraceptives!!!_ ). A few kids asked about abstinence only and Jon replied that it was a personal choice and if that’s what you chose to do then it’s fine. He also repeated that _this is a school; we are not condoning sexual relationships between minors._

When the questions began to dwindle, Jon noticed the gleam in Ygritte’s eye once again as she slowly raised her hand up high. Previously, as the lesson had been coming to a close, students were getting restless. However, upon seeing Ygritte’s hand held up for all to see, a new interested captivated the class. This was going to be less of an education and more entertainment now and there was nothing Jon could do about it. Especially when the portraits lining the common room were going to tell his Head of House Brienne Tarth _and_ Headmaster Stannis Baratheon how his presentation went one way or the other.

“Yes, Ygritte,” Jon said exasperatedly, not even bothering to hide his tone, Maybe she’ll cool off? Doubtful.

Ygritte flashed a grin. “What if you don’t know how to have sex but really want to?”

Jon stared at his girlfriend, his _sexually active_ girlfriend, and half wondered if she was trying to get him to say the words or was alluding to their own first time last year. Either way, Jon was _not_ happy.

“That is something the individual should research and study before acting on it.” There- short, clean, professional. Hopefully, Ygritte would let up-

Her hand was once again back in the air. She waved it a little for emphasis and this got a light chuckle from the students.

“Yes,” Jon hissed through clenched teeth.

“Okay, so you studied and you know where all the parts are supposed to go, blah, blah, blah-” This time the younger children were able to join in on the laughter –“what about condoms?”

“You should wear one,” Jon deadpanned.

“How do you wear one?” Ygritte asked innocently, a slight smile curling her lips.

_Oh, fuck this._

Jon _oh-so-badly_ wanted to brush her off and end this conversation, but as he looked through the crowd of students, he could see a few looking at him with genuine curiosity. _How_ this became his responsibility? He didn’t know, but he had to do it.

Jon’s face burned as he tried to think if he was carrying a condom on him. Burned as he realized that he _did_ have one on him but he wasn’t sure he wanted his whole House to know he kept one in his wallet. Burned at the fact that once he got the condom out he didn’t exactly have an object to demonstrate on and… the whole thing was a mess.

“Alright,” Jon swallowed roughly- he’ll just do the presentation without a condom. His verbal explanation would be enough, right? “First-”

He hadn’t even started when four different types of condoms were thrown at him in different directions, one hitting him on the side of the head and another one landing in the fire pit behind him. Jon picked up the condom that hit him on the head and someone to the left muttered, “I want that back.” _Fat fucking chance._

“Thanks,” he remarked dully and an eruption of laughter followed. “So, firstly, you are going to want to open the condom wrapper carefully. Make sure you don’t tear the condom in the process. There is no need to rush the preparation.” A large cackle sounded from the top of the staircase and Jon cursed in seeing Theon and Robb standing there, both with matching grins and swollen lips.

“Theon, Greyjoy, baby,” Ygritte cooed, scooting over in the couch and patting the seat beside her, “Snow is giving us a condom demonstration!”

Theon’s eyes widened in amusement and Robb rolled his eyes as his boyfriend darted off. Jon groaned as Theon and Ygritte high-fived. “Come on, Snow,” Theon jeered. “Let’s see your technique.”

“I’ll have you know, it is quite good,” Ygritte commented loudly before firing another question at Jon. “Does the-” she made an elongated hand motion “- _phallic organ_ -” somehow it was worse than her saying penis, dick, or cock “-have to be engorged?” Jon was going to kill whoever gave Ygritte the _Amateur Smut Writer’s Guide_.

Ygritte and Theon looked absolutely delighted at this opportunity to embarrass Jon further.

“Yes,” Jon sighed. “Now, you are going to want to-”

“How are you going to give a condom demonstration without an _object_ to put the condom on?” Theon asked innocently.

“What do you want me to use, Greyjoy?” Jon snapped, not even bothering to keep his cool.

Suddenly, six different spells were cast across the room. The book on the table in front of Meera Reed turned into a banana. The baseball Grenn had been tossing up in the air turned into a cucumber. Someone didn’t even bother with the pretenses of fruit or vegetables or any other phallic shaped object when the bust of Durran Godsgrief that rested on the mantle behind Jon transfigured into a straight-up dildo.

Ygritte and Theon couldn’t contain their cackling as Jon picked up what used to be the bust of Durran Godsgrief and held it before him. He could already see a few figures in the portraits had disappeared and he knew they were halfway to Stannis to sing of Jon’s presentation.

“Okay, so now we have a condom and a pe-”

“Phallic organ,” Ygritte cut him off. “Come on, there are children present. Don’t be crass.”

Swiftly ignoring her, Jon demonstrated how to put the condom the not-bust of Durran Godsgrief (Jon was refusing to call it what it actually was). He answered a few more questions posed by some of the third years and when it looked like things were simmering down, Ygritte’s hand was back up in the air with her whispering conspiratorially with Theon Greyjoy.

“Is this an actual question?”

Ygritte flashed Jon another all-teeth grin. “All my questions were questions, Snow. Now, since the condom is on the phallic organ, how do you prepare the gi-”

“Nope!” Jon just shook his head, pulling out his wand and transfiguring everything the way it was supposed to be; banana to book, cucumber to baseball, condom covered dildo to condom covered bust- _oh fuck_ , you know what? Screw it. “Speech done. Everyone can go do whatever they want.”

Thankfully, the rest of his House had sense. Most of the students dispersed. Robb grabbed Theon’s hand and pulled him out of the common room with an insistent _let’s go!_ Ygritte remained seated in front of Jon, smiling up at him.

“I hate you so much,” Jon vowed.

Ygritte rolled her eyes. “Sure, you do. I was just trying to spice up your less-”

“Don’t,” Jon cut her off. “Just don’t.”

Not even ten seconds passed before Professor Tarth strolled into the common room, making a beeline toward Jon and Ygritte.

“How’d the presentation go?” she asked, surveying the two. “You talk about all the topics on the list I gave you?”

Jon was dumbfounded when Ygritte pulled out the scroll and nodded her head. “Yup!”

“Good,” Brienne looked relieved. “I was going to have the prefects from the other Houses help you,” she was speaking to Jon now, “but if this works, Ygritte can just come with you to the other Houses.” Stunned, Jon barely even registered the question as he nodded his head. “Excellent.” Brienne began to walk away but paused as the sight of Durran Godsgrief’s bust with a condom still tightly wrapped around it.

Ygritte moved in swiftly. “Training accident.”

Brienne didn’t look amused but didn’t comment on it. “Professor Seaworth will bring you two to the Hufflepuff common room after dinner.” And with that, she was gone.

After a few moments, Jon rounded on his girlfriend. “You were asked to help?”

“Both Robb and I, but I _may_ have persuaded a certain boyfriend of his to distract him.”

“I doubt that took any persuasion,” Jon shook his head in dismay.

“Oh, none at all.” Ygritte climbed off the couch to stand before him. “We make quite the team.”

Jon just stared her down with a look of _are you fucking kidding me?_ Ygritte ignored it, pressed a kiss to his cheek and danced off.

“I’ll think up some new questions for tonight!”

She was gone before Jon could ask her to please not.


	12. Memory Lane [Stannis + Davos]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Davos being nostalgic with Stannis and recounting tales from when they were teenagers @ Hogwarts, with Davos being really peppy and Stannis trying to show affection for his friend in his grumpy, awkward way?

“They’ve driven me mad,” Stannis muttered into his third goblet of summer wine. Wincing at the too-sweet of taste even still. “They have driven me completely and utterly mad.”

Davos watched, also on his third goblet, with a weary smile. “At least Tyrion isn’t bad.”

Stannis sneered, “That’s because he pays for our silence with wine.” He gestured to the nearly empty bottle that had only been opened a few hours ago after their staff meeting had ended and Tyrion Lannister, the Ravenclaw Head of House, had left it behind not-so-subtly. “But he is just as bad as his brother and Tarth, egging them on until they are at each other’s throats.” Stannis drained the goblet and Davos was ready to pour him another. “You’re the only tolerable person in his damnable castle.” He gave a grunt of a chuckle. “Fuck Robert for putting me in charge here.”

“It’s a trust thing,” Davos stuttered over his words.

“Me and Robert or me and you?” Stannis frowned, the wine muddling his mind as much as it muddled Davos’ words. He normally didn’t partake in excessive drinking; there was so much work to do and so little time. Wine slowed you down and the last thing Stannis needed was losing more time to pointlessness. Without waiting for a response, Stannis shrugged. “Shit, how long have we known each other?”

“Thirty…thirty something,” Davos slurred but reached for the bottle regardless. Best not let it go to waste, right?

“You,” Stannis’ frown deepened, the words becoming more difficult to conjure, “you were a-a-”

“Dork?” Davos grinned ruefully, flashes of his Hogwarts days coming to mind.

Stannis thought for a moment before nodding. “That sounds about right.”

Davos set the now empty wine bottle to the side. “If I remember correctly, you were no better.”

Only a few have ever seen this particular look on Stannis Baratheon’s face: a mixture of exasperation, disapproval, and the readiness to argue with an underlying layer of light-heartedness. “I was normal.”

“And I wasn’t?” Davos was amused. It was rare to get Stannis in such a mood of sentiment. It was so rare to get Stannis out of his damn books for him to even _have_ the moment of sentiment.

Stannis _snorted_ in a laugh, “You had the fuckin’ hair.”

Davos remembered the hair and embarrassment still came to him even after thirty years. “Weren’t you the one trying to grow a beard because Robert had one?”

Stannis shut down. _Yeah, take that old man._ Never mind the fact that Stannis was only two years older than Davos.

A lull passed and Davos thought the trip down memory lane had been cut dead before it really began. He could see that even in his tipsy-to-drunk mind that Stannis was still eyeing the vast amount of paperwork on his desk.

“Remember seventh year?” Stannis spoke up, softer than before but the slur still coating his words ever-so-slightly.

“I imagine you are talking about yours.”

“Mhmm,” Stannis nodded his head along. “Do you remember it?”

“Clear as day,” Davos agreed, pulling himself up from his chair to search Stannis’ cabinets for another bottle. If he knew his friend just as well as he thought, he knew where that train of thought was going and it was soon going to open up a whole can of worms and…they needed to be drunker for the conversation to come…at least so when the inevitably remembered it, there was the excuse of alcohol.

Fortunately, Stannis was always well-stocked with liquor. Not because Stannis was a drinker. He drank a goblet of wine in the Great Hall, whenever he could be bothered to actually show up, and he drank occasionally to unwind. His brothers were the drinkers, both of them indulging themselves and pestering Stannis as to why he never did the same.

No, a good portion of Stannis’ liquor cabinets (he had three and was going to be needing a fourth soon), were gifts from people who didn’t know what to give a man like Stannis or were giving as favors. Parents occasionally sent gifts of gratitude and Renly always sent ale with notes of _It’s as bitter as you!_ One cabinet of alcohol was entirely made up of confiscated goods (It was the overflow from Walder Frey’s own stash)- more than half of it was confiscated by a certain Head of House with a sharp wit…

Grabbing at random because Tyrion _always_ had good taste, Davos brought back another wine. It looked foreign and hopefully aged well. Popping it open, Davos made sure Stannis’ glass wasn’t empty for long.

“As you were saying,” Davos urged him forward.

“I broke your fingers, my seventh year,” Stannis remembered. “Nearly clean off. With a bloody _broom handle._ ”

Davos looked at the scar that lines all the fingers on his left hand. “Not your finest moment, nor mine, but I learned my lesson.”

Stannis nodded his head. “We had better memories.” Davos didn’t say anything, waiting for Stannis to continue. “Like your first year here.”

“As a professor or as a student?” Davos grinned.

“Both,” Stannis admitted shamelessly. He almost sounded _fond_. “You were a shrimpy kid. And that _hair_.” Stannis shook his head. “So eager too.”

“If I remember correctly, you didn’t say a word to me the whole train ride.”

Stannis _nearly_ smirked. “You didn’t leave much room for words, blathering on and on about what House you’d get into. I don’t think you picked up the hint.”

“That you wanted to be left alone?” Davos cocked an eyebrow. “Well, let’s be honest here, you didn’t make it very clear, nodding your head along and listening intently.”

“It was courteous.”

“And the years after?” Davos was nearly teasing. “What, you with your books and studies?”

“ _Someone_ in my family had to take it seriously. Robert and his sins and Renly with his jokes. You were a better brother than them.”

That was probably the closest Stannis would ever come to saying he loved the man beside him. Luckily, Davos was well acquainted with the non-language of Stannis and got the meaning behind it.

“Didn’t hear from you after you graduated. Not until I got a letter ten years later.” Davos remembered the shock on his wife’s face when he had opened it and was being offered a teaching position _and_ the office of Head of House for Hufflepuff without so much as an interview.

“I had already hired both Lannisters,” Stannis sneered at the thought. “Robert gave me no choice on Jaime but at least I got to have the say on Tyrion. I needed someone I could count on and you got Outstandings in Herbology ever year.”

“That’s all you needed?” Davos joked.

“You proved yourself well when we had that incident in the kitchens. Who knew there were so many ways to cook an onion?” Both of them fell into laughter (or as close as Stannis could manage to).

“Remember the look on Baelish’s face?” Davos grinned.

“Fuck Baelish,” Stannis grumbled. “I would fire him in an instant if I had a choice. Too bad he was already hired when I was put in charge. Bloody stuck with him.” Stannis sighed. “He was an ass even back when we were students.”

“You punched him, Davos suddenly remembered, staring at Stannis wide-eyed. “That _was_ you right? You never told me.”

“I don’t recall,” Stannis remarked vaguely, pouring more wine in favor of not looking at his longtime friend.

“Third year,” Davos insisted, leaning on the desk they were both seated at. “Well, your fifth and his fourth.”

“I don’t know-”

“Broke his nose in three places.” Davos was nodding his head quickly, the memories rolling back.

“Four,” Stannis corrected in a mutter but in doing so revealed himself as well. “ _Shit._ ”

Davos was smirking now. “So you did punch him?”

“Only once then Robert caught wind of it and invited himself over to join in,” Stannis groaned. “Baelish was picking fights with _everyone,_ though. Remember his fight with Brandon Stark? Was in the hospital wing for a month.”

“You claim to remember that fight but you don’t remember your own?”

Stannis set his wine goblet down heavily. “He had Lysa Tully-”

“Arryn now.”

“-Lysa _Arryn_ slip doxy eggs into your Shrinking Solution just because you outwitted him in Herbology. You could have _poisoned_ someone.”

“No one was going to drink it.” Even as he said that, he couldn’t help be amused by Stannis’ outrage. He wasn’t sure if it was due to his dislike (or hatred) for Petyr Baelish or because he always hated underhanded trickery that Baelish was very fond of or because Baelish aimed his attack on Davos, but he found it endearing all the same that Stannis nose-stuck-in-his-studies Baratheon ended up getting a week’s worth of detention for the stunt.

“It was the principal of the matter.”

“Sure, sure,” Davos murmured as the clock  in the corner of Stannis’ office chimed once signally how late they had stayed up reminiscing. “I should be going.”

Stannis nodded his head, gathering himself up as well. “I have work to be doing.”

Davos rolled his eyes, knowing the minute he left the office, Stannis would get through reading half a letter before promptly passing on his desk.

“See you tomorrow.”

Davos only received a grunt in return but in Stannis’ non-language that translated into a ‘good night.’


	13. Protectors [Gendrya]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: I heard you wanted gendrya prompts, so how about this got/hp prompt for them: "we’re in between classes, and we both hear a fourth year calling a first year a mudblood, and neither of us are having any of that prejudiced bullshit. unfortunately, my impulse was to hex them, and yours was to punch them in the face, and my jelly-legs curse hit you instead, i’m really sorry, and we both are probably getting detention now, but hey, plus side, you’re kind of cute" ;)

Davos tapped his foot impatiently outside the Hospital Wing. _Twenty minutes_ he had been waiting for Jaime fucking Lannister. For twenty minutes, Davos had to bid his time- no, _waste_ his time –waiting instead of dealing with the mess on the other side of the oak doors. He was beginning to understand why Brienne was constantly fighting with him, although Davos certainly didn’t have the same underlying _affections_.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Jaime snapped as he stalked forward, his robe dramatically rippling behind him. His tone implied he was nothing of the sort but Davos was frankly just happy he was finally showing up. “Qyburn wasn’t specific in his message, who is in there?”

Davos would really like to hex the other Head of House right now, but that would just be stooping to the other three’s level. “Waters and Stark.”

Jaime gave Davos a deadpanned look. “Which Waters and Stark? In case you forgot, there’s a Stark in every fucking house and three times as many Waters,” Jaime then dropped his voice an added, “thanks to the Minster of Magic.”

Davos chose not to address the latter part of that comment. “ _Gendry_ Waters from Hufflepuff and _Arya_ Stark from Slytherin.”

Jaime didn’t even look surprised at all. If anything, he looked even more bored. “Well, I should have known _she_ was involved.”

Davos sighed and pushed open the door. “Well, she attacked two students in the halls earlier.”

“She attacked _two_ from yours?” Jaime looked a smidge bewildered.

“No, one from each of ours.”

The two Head of Houses approached the end of the Hospital Wing where three students laid in beds and one sat in a chair on the opposite side. One’s legs were strapped to the bed, jiggling with the little slack the straps provided. One was just a little pale and shaky, the white sheets balled up in his fists. The last one on the beds was covered in a wide array of bruises and boils covering all available skin. In tandem, both Heads of Houses turned to the fourth student in the chair that only seemed to be suffering from guilt and bloody knuckles. _Great_.

“Who wants to explain?” Davos took charge. He’d seen Lannister’s _last_ attempted to control _his_ Stark when she dived over the Hufflepuff _and_ Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall not even a month ago.

Davos pointed his gaze to his two students, particularly the one who _didn’t_ look scared beyond belief.

“Raff,” Gendry began as he glared at the seventh year covered in boils and bruises, “was picking on Lommy.”

Davos and Jaime exchanged exasperated looks. That was it? Actually, Arya Stark was involved. Of course, that was it. Davos had to admit, he was a little disappointed in Gendry. He was a bright student and seemed to keep his nose clean. Now he was picking fights.

“Why are you in the Hospital Wing?” Jaime asked, looking down at Gendry’s still fidgeting legs.

“I went to punch him and _she_ ,” Gendry nodded his head toward the other side of the room where Arya sat arms crossed and defiant, “sent his a Jelly-Legs Curse. She missed.”

As both her Head of House _and_ the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Jaime was disappointed. “Really, Stark? You _missed_?”

“Lannister!” Davos yelped affronted.

“Yeah, I know, it’s wrong,” Jaime mocked offhandedly before turning to his student, “but you _missed_?”

“They were moving too much!” Arya defended. “It’s not my fault he got in the way! He should be _thanking_ me, anyways. Raff would have beaten him up if it weren’t for me.”

Gendry made a choking sound. “Excuse me? You want me to thank you for sending me to the Hospital Wing?”

“You didn't have to get involved,” Arya sneered. “Lommy is _my_ class.”

“He’s in my House!”

“Raff is in my House. I can take care of it.”

“Hufflepuffs stick together.”

“Hufflepuffs _blow_ ,” Arya hissed.

“Enough!” Davos boomed, silencing the two students. Rubbing his face, Davos turned to Lommy, “Mr. Greenhands, Mr. Waters said Mr. Sweetling was ‘picking’ on you. Is that correct?”

Lommy gave a weak nodded and avoided all eye contact.

“It was more than _picking on_ ,” Arya was out of her chair now and crossing the room to stand in front of the two professors. “He called ‘em a…well, you know, a…I’m not going to say it.” Arya crossed her arms. “But it was bad!”

Davos was going to have an ulcer if she kept yelling and Jaime looked near close to it. Davos couldn’t even imagine having Arya as a full-time student. She was a bright girl but she was also a handful. Davos was beginning to understand Jaime’s cynicism.

“The name,” Jaime sighed, “on a scale of one to ten, how bad was it?”

Davos turned to look at his co-worker. “Really? That’s your tactic?”

“Like twenty thousand,” Arya growled. “You should have Stannis-”

“Headmaster Baratheon,” Davos corrected but it went on deaf ears.

“-expel him and put him in Azkaban or something.”

“Christ,” Jaime rubbed his forehead. “Twenty thousand, you say?”

“Are you serious right now?” Davos couldn’t believe this conversation was actually taking place.

“He…” Lommy weakly began before drifting off. Both Jaime and Arya turned to the youngest student. “He called me a mudblood.”

The room went cold and deadly. Suddenly, a warmth of pride filled Davos’ chest but he kept his mouth shut and his face trained. Jaime was less able to keep his composure as he slapped a proud hand on Arya’s shoulder.

“That’s highly inappropriate language,” Davos began. “Language that Headmaster Baratheon will want to speak to you about and your parents will be receiving a letter, right?” Davos turned to Jaime.

“I’ll send a fucking Howler if you want,” Jaime growled but it was more aimed at his student than his co-worker. “Seventy points from Slytherin for disrespectful language and harmful prejudice and bullying.” Jaime looked down at Arya. “Twenty points to Slytherin for standing up to bullies.”

Davos rolled his eyes but awarded twenty points to Hufflepuff as well as take ten from each due to fighting. 

Jaime had already begun to walk off before looking at the four students. “Mr. Sweetling, we’ll talk more in depth about your punishment but Miss Stark, on top of all your other detentions, we’ll add another week of cauldron scrubbing. Professor Luwin will be delighted. If it is okay with you Seaworth, I’m sure Mr. Waters would _love_ to join her, hm?”

“Agreed.”

With that, Jaime was gone, probably to go talked with Stannis more in-depth about the situation, and Davos was left with the four students. Qyburn came and pulled Raff’s cot into his private office to handle the boils while Davos un-cursed Gendry’s legs. Davos pulled Lommy aside to talk briefly before sending him off. When he turned to face the two remaining students, he found Arya and Gendry sitting side by side and talking in low voices.

“Sorry about cursing you,” Arya muttered.

Gendry shrugged. “Whatever, at least you hit him with the pimple jinx and not me.”

Both chuckled at that. “You got a good punch in.”

“You did all the rest,” Gendry added as he picked up her hand. “Surprised you didn’t break your knuckles on his thick skull.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” Arya pulled her hand back and punched him on the shoulder.

“Oh, I saw you knock your brother to the ground at the Great Hall last month. You vaulted over my table to tackle him,” Gendry shook his head. “Knocked over Shireen’s drink in the process.

Arya wrinkled her nose. “I actually feel bad about it,” Arya admitted. “Well the Shireen part, Bran deserved what he got.”

Gendry just shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

Arya grinned wickedly. “Well, next time some ignorant asshole from my House decides to boast about blood purity _bull_ shit, I know who to call for back up.”

“Are you going to hit me again instead of the actual target?” Gendry raised an eyebrow, a smile threatening his lips.

“Practice makes perfect,” Arya nudged him. “Seriously, though, sorry about the curse.”

Gendry shrugged it off. “Well, if you want to make it up to me you can buy Lommy and me Butterbeers at Hogsmeade next weekend. That is if you don’t have detention.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Lannister can give me all the detentions he wants and I still won’t show up. I don’t even think he tells the other professors I’m supposed to be there because Luwin hasn’t talked to me _once_ about not showing up.” Both laughed shortly at this. “Alright, Waters, you got yourself a date.”

“With you or Lommy?” Gendry asked boldly.

“Arya shrugged. “We’ll see next weekend.” Turning around to lock eyes with Davos, Arya asked, “Can I go now?”

Davos approached and held out his hands, “Let me see your knuckles.” With a wave of his wand, the skin pinched back together. “Alright, both of you out. Dinner should be starting soon.”

Davos watched as both Arya and Gendry shot up out of their seats and darted off toward the exit.

“Can I sit at your table?” Arya asked innocently, hands twisted behind her back as she rocked on her toes to attempt to meet Gendry’s height. “Not feeling the whole House Pride thing after today.”

Gendry grinned. “Sure thing. None of us are going to care. The more the merrier.”

“Oh!” Arya jumped up excitedly. “We can mess with my brother.”

“Which one?” Gendry asked wearily.

“ _Rickon_ ,” Arya smirked deviously. “It’s been a while since I’ve messed with him. Back home, we are partners in crime. Well, when Jon’s not busy…”


	14. Pets [Ygritte + Stannis]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For BramblyJen who wanted more from the comments of one of the chapters :) 
> 
> Also, references from IgnisEtGlacies13's   
> [chapter Westeros School of Witchcraft and Wizardry](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7180856/chapters/17055087)  
> which you should check out if you haven't.

Ygritte shifted awkwardly in the uncomfortable chair in the Headmaster’s office. As per usual, it was dimly lit and the desk was overflowing the scrolls and texts and just general work that Ygritte did not envy. The only notable difference in the office from the many times she had been sent up there was her snow falcon, Crow ( _shut up, it’s an inside joke with her boyfriend_ ), being present, the Headmaster transfiguring the other chair into a golden perch for the bird.

“I think you understand why we are gathered here,” Headmaster Baratheon started with a heavy sigh, nodding his head toward the Snow Falcon that was staring right back at him with fierce charcoal eyes.

Ygritte did know why, but just because she knew, didn’t mean she had to play into the Headmaster’s discussion. “I have no idea, sir.”

Stannis Baratheon gave her a dull look before sifting through some of the scrolls on his desk and finding the one he was looking for. He held it up as his evidence.

“Professor Martell-” _oh, shit_ , Ygritte though “-has written me _several_ reports of a particular snow falcon harassing the other owls in the Owlery.” Ygritte watched as Headmaster Baratheon picked up four scrolls tied with a piece of yarn. “Each Head of House has also written me reports of missing rats and scratched up cats. According to Professor Martell, those scratches seem to belong to talons.” Ygritte ignored the pointed look Headmaster Baratheon sent Crow’s talons.

“Sounds like a serious problem,” Ygritte mused, looking at her knees rather than her aged Headmaster’s eyes.

“It is.” There was a pause, an opportunity for Ygritte to come clean but when he was met with only silence, he continued, “I’m sure you are aware that the only approved pets allowed in Hogwarts are cats, rats, and owls. If that weren’t the case, I’d have those wolves the Starks keep running through my halls.”

“Crow didn’t do anything,” Ygritte muttered, playing with the edge of her uniform skirt. “The owls don’t like him so he can’t sleep in the owlery.”

“Be that as it may, the falcon is causing a serious issue in my already problematic school. You need to get rid of it.”

Ygritte’s head snapped up. “What? No!”

“I’m afraid there is no other option,” Headmaster Baratheon turned to his papers rather than meet her gaze. Ygritte stubbornly continued to try and hold it.

“I can’t send him back!” Ygritte was standing now, arms crossed and eyes glaring. Beside her, the snow falcon cawed in agreement.

Stannis sighed once again. “This is not up for discussion. The falcon is terrorizing the other animals and I’m going to have a lawsuit on my hands if this continues. I don’t need to be brought up by the Council of Magical Law on the account of a few missing rats.”

“Crow didn’t do it.”

“I don’t see prove to dispute it,” Stannis said tiredly.

“Where is the prove _proving_ it?” Ygritte snarled. “This is discrimination! Under Lightfoot vs. Grover-”

“Lightfoot vs. Grover was on fair housing. This isn’t a fair housing issue. This is a school. I don't know where you find the time to quote wizarding trials but I don’t have time for this. Send the falcon home and next year bring a cat.”

“How are you so heartless?” Ygritte snapped, the falcon spreading its wide wings in a menacing stretch.

Stannis Baratheon stared down the third year with cold eyes. “Rules are meant to be followed, not bent to suit the needs of individuals.”

Ygritte narrowed her eyes. “Crow can’t fly back home.”

“And why not?” the Headmaster challenged.

“Because he’ll come right back! Hogwarts is his home _and_ my home. You can’t kick him to the curb,” Ygritte snarled. “I can keep him in my dorm!”

“I doubt Professor Tarth or your roommates will appreciate that.”

“I can keep him in the forest,” Ygritte offered quickly.

“The Forbidden Forest is a preserve. There is a reason no one is allowed in there without Professor Martell. He keeps the Forbidden Forest safe and we cannot be adding nonindigenous species because-”

“There has to be something.” Ygritte had turned to the snow falcon in dismay. “He’s a good boy; he likes to sit on his perch and rest. The owls don’t like him so he gets cranky and lashes out, but he’s a good boy. I don’t know what happened to the rats but Crow didn’t eat ‘em.”

“I’m afraid there is nothing left to do,” Headmaster Baratheon said sternly. “Tomorrow, you may come back here and say your goodbyes but the falcon has to be gone by tomorrow night.”

With an angry glare and a murderous look, Ygritte stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as the door snapped, a loud scream echoed through the Headmaster’s office followed by maniacal laughter. Stannis slammed his head onto his table. _Great, she woke up Aerys._

* * *

Davos eyed the falcon as Stannis fed it some fish from the Great Lake. In the few hours Professor Martell had brought up the bird, Stannis had managed to transfigure the  _comfortable_ chair into a perch for the beast and had already gotten fish for it. If you have known Stannis for as long as Davos had, it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on.

“I imagine the girl was unhappy with the decision,” Davos spoke up. When Stannis threw him a confused look, Davos nodded to the bird that was happily nibbling at Stannis’ fingers.

“Oh,” he pulled his hand away and returned to his desk. “No, she woke up Aerys which is impressive considering the sleeping spell we put that portrait under.”

“So you are still sending it off,” Davos questioned. “Even after the knowledge of the Shadowcats incident?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Stannis frowned deeply. “The rules still stand.”

Davos didn’t even speak; he only nodded to the small plate of fish Stannis had set out for the bird. The plate for the china set Robert and Cersei had given to Stannis as a gift to congratulate him on his position.

Stannis narrowed his eyes at his longtime friend. “I know what you’re thinking-”

“Oh, really,” Davos cut off with a chuckle.

“ _-and_ , it is not like that.”

“How is it then?” Davos narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not going to have the bird starve in my office,” Stannis snapped.

“Yes, but why keep it in your office at all?” Davos shot back. “I’m sure Professor Martell wouldn’t mind keeping it in his quarters for the night. He is the Care of Magical Creatures professor. It’s his job.”

“I know how to care for a falcon,” Stannis muttered.

“And _that_ is the problem, isn’t it,” Davos leaned forward, resting his hands on the desk. “Please tell me you aren’t making this about Proudwing.”

The reaction would have been humorous if the situation wasn’t so screwy. Stannis’ head snapped up and a deep blush colored his cheeks. Whether the blush was embarrassment or shame, Davos knew he was right.

“This isn’t about Proudwing,” Stannis grunted, standing up so he could avoid Davos’ gaze.

“Of course, of course,” Davos waved off. “Because if it was about Proudwing, you’d be a lot more considerate to the girl or do you like playing the role of Robert here?”

Stannis turned around, eyes like daggers. “This is a matter of rules.”

“Back then it was a matter of rules, but if I recall correctly, you were on the opposite side of the rules.”

“I was a stupid kid,” Stannis scowled. “The decision stands.”

“Why does this have to be so black and white?” Davos asked tiredly. “Why do you have to make it personal? Robert won’t care-”

“Robert will take this as an opportunity to see things haven’t changed. _Sure_ , he’ll ignore the fact that overall grades have risen and some of the brightest witches and wizards of our age have come out of the school since I’ve been in charge but the minute he catches a _whiff_ that I let this beast stay, he and the witch of a wife will never let me live it down,” Stannis raged, dark shadows coming over his face as he snarled.

“Then don’t let the girl keep the bird with the owls or in the dorms,” Davos shrugged off.

“I already explained to her that she can’t keep it in the forest.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest the forest,” Davos stood up and walked around the office, toward the golden perch the falcon rested on. “Not when it has a suitable home here.”

“You want me to keep a bird in my office,” Stannis sneered.

Davos raised a single eyebrow. “I’m not the one who is using the fine china for it.”

Stannis paused before narrowing his eyes and sinking back into his seat. “This isn’t about Proudwing.”

“Sure,” Davos smiled as he watched Stannis grab a new sheet of parchment and begin writing.

* * *

“Really?” Ygritte beamed, looking between Headmaster Baratheon, Crow, and Professor Martell.

“Yes,” headmaster Baratheon drawled as he held out a scroll. “The agreement is here. The falcon-”

“Crow,” Ygritte corrected brightly.

“ _Crow_ can stay on campus as long as he stays in my office when he is not flying the grounds.”

Ygritte practically ripped the scroll from the Headmaster’s hands and she skimmed it over. “And I can visit him whenever I want?”

“As long as it is during acceptable hours and I am not busy,” Headmaster Baratheon grumbled.

“And,” Professor Martell stepped it, “since Crow is a hunter during the day, you will most likely see him on the grounds during the day and you’ll be out of Headmaster Baratheon’s way.”

“What about the missing rats?” Ygritte asked carefully, the situation almost too good to be true.

“Turns out,” Professor Martell flushed brightly, “Tommen Baratheon has extended his kinship with the cats to the Shadowcats of the Forbidden Forest. _How_ he managed to sneak them in without any notice, I don’t know, but they are back where they belong.”

“And the talon marks on the cats?” Ygritte narrowed her eyes.

“I miss read those. They are also from the Shadowcats. Their claws are bigger than that of a regular cat and the swiping pattern is not that different from a talon scratch-”

“The point is the falcon-”

“Crow!” Ygritte grinned brilliantly.

“-didn’t do it, so he is free to stay. If you agree, you can sign the agreement and _Crow_ will live in my office until we come up with a better arrangement.”

Ygritte didn’t even read through the whole document before signing it, thrusting it into Headmaster Baratheon’s hands and pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ygritte squealed before rushing to the falcon. “Now, Crow, listen up, you have to be kind to Headmaster Baratheon, okay? You can’t mess with him like you do Snow. He’s your new roommate so be nice.”

The falcon preened as Ygritte scratched its head.

Professor Martell quickly escorted Ygritte out of Stannis office. Once the door was sealed shut, Stannis crossed the distance to where Crow was perched. Carefully, he stroked the falcon’s throat and listened to it hum agreeably.

_Proudwing had liked that too._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send prompts either here or on [Tumblr](http://youbuggingme.tumblr.com/)


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